The Locket
by AmyGoddess
Summary: What if Ron never left the Trio during "Deathly Hallows" and wasn't the one to destroy the locket?


"Harry, oh Merlin, are you all right?" Hermione gasped, crawling over to him where he lay just to the side of the small pool of water. She was soaked to the skin and freezing, starting to tremble with cold.

"Yeah," he murmured, coughing, lying on his back and panting. She was tired, too, with the effort of pulling him out of the water, but she tried to help him sit up. He patted his chest suddenly, looking up at her, eyes wide with panic. "The locket! It was strangling me! Where is it?"

"Here, Harry," she said, pulling the horcrux from her pocket. "I had to say a few charms to get it off you, it was so strong!"

Both wizards startled at the sound of a figure rushing towards them through the trees. "What the bloody hell do you two think you are doing?" Ron bellowed as he came running up to them. "What happened? Why are you all wet? And why did you leave and not come get me!"

Harry and Hermione looked at their friend as they both spoke at once. "I couldn't sleep-" "I saw a Patronus-"

"Wait. What? Start over and you go first," Ron demanded, pointing at Harry. "You were supposed to be on watch."

"Yeah, well, I saw something and went to investigate. It was a Patronus, a beautiful doe." Harry gestured to the small pond he lay beside. "It led me here, and then it vanished."

"It just disappeared?" Hermoine shouted, agitated. This was deeply disturbing. They had carefully warded a large area around the tent against anyone seeing, hearing, smelling, or sensing them, and had communicated with _no one_ in the past few weeks. No one should know where they were. No one. "Where was it when you last saw it?"

"Over there, I think," he said, pointing to two tall oaks growing close together.

"And you didn't see anyone casting it?" Ron shouted as he ran over to the trees to examine them.

"No, there was no one, not that I could see."

"How is it possible that someone was here? To know to be here, and lead you to this place?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, Mione. It doesn't make any sense."

Hermione conjured some blankets and passed several of them to Harry. The two of them sat by the pond, wrapped up but shivering, as they watched Ron walk slowly around the two oak trees, his wand lit up and pointing at the ground.

After a few minutes, he raised his head and walked back toward them. "Nothing. No sign of footprints or any kind of disturbance. I don't understand it." He rounded on Hermione. "Now what brought you out here and why didn't you wake me up? And how did that sword get in that pond?"

"I - I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about - well- you know - oh, never mind. And then I had this feeling that Harry was in trouble, so I got up and started running!" She turned to Harry, feeling tears well up. "If I'd been one second later-" she said shakily, but could not continue.

Harry reached out to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. The tears she was holding back started streaming down her cheeks."I'm all right Hermione, I'll be all right. And as far as the sword, I have no idea. Unless it was left by the person who cast the doe patronus."

Ron stood nearby, glaring down at the sword. "I don't like this, not one bit."

"Me neither mate, but perhaps someone is trying to help us."

"Do you think it is the real sword?" she asked, voice chattering.

"Only one way to know for sure," Harry said, picking up the sword by its hilt and laying it down by Hermione's side. "I'm going to put the locket right here," he stated, standing and walking to a nearby rock, "and then I'm going to ask it to open. Hermione, you are going to stab it, and you are going to do it right away, because this bloody thing tried to kill me!"

She was prevented from protesting by Ron's question. "We've been trying to open it for months, Harry! How do you suddenly know how to open it?"

"I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but I'm going to use Parseltongue," he said. To Hermione's ear, Harry sounded confident and sure of this plan. But then her fear roared up to smother her.

"Harry, I - I can't, don't open it. Or have Ron kill it. Or you!"

"Hermione, you should do it. You saved me from it, after all!" Harry yelled.

"No, please. I can't take that thing. The things it made me think - the words it would whisper in my mind - about - you know - I can't. Please don't make me!" she cried.

She could not. The locket was her torment. It filled her mind of _him_ , and what he was doing, hundreds of miles away from her, in a world not turned upside down by war. In a world full of fame and money and beautiful witches - far more beautiful than she was - who would cater to his every whim, sexual and otherwise. Witches who could do for him what she had not. When she had the opportunity, she was too nervous and afraid to do anything more than kiss and caress him a little. And now that she was not too nervous and afraid, making love with him was no longer an option.

"Hermione, you can do it! I know you can," Ron exclaimed, crouching down by her. He took her cold hands in his and rubbed them. "I know what was in my head when I wore the locket, so I can just imagine what terrible things it made you think and feel. But you can do it. You're the strongest of the three of us." He stood, and helped her stand.

She looked at the locket, a few feet away, looking to all the world as an innocent if gaudy piece of Black family history. But it represented terror and an end to the world she had grown to love. With a sigh of resignation, she bent, picked up the sword of Godric Gryffindor and then walked over to stand next to Harry.

"We're right here with you, Mione." Harry turned toward the locket. "On three," he said commandingly.

Her heart pounded like a drum as Harry knelt down and hissed and snarled at the locket. To her astonishment, the golden clasp of the locket came apart and the two sides opened with a clink.

"Bloody hell," Ron whispered, in awe or fear she couldn't tell. She hadn't heard him come up beside her, she was too transfixed by the locket.

Now that the horcrux was open, the three of them could see two eyes, the brown eyes of a younger, more innocent Tom Riddle, blinking up at them in the moonlight through the glass of the locket.

"Do it," Harry ordered. He was holding the locket open and steady on the rock, but Hermione was frozen.

Those eyes penetrated her - it seemed they reached right in to the heart of her, seeing everything about her, leaving nothing untouched, nothing untainted. Tormenting her.

 _"Hermione Granger. I have seen your heart."_ The voice was dark and deep, and sent a chill up her spine. Then it laughed, a low and conniving cackle. _"The heart of a mudblood is generally as worthless as garbage. But, despite your lack of worth, your heart and dreams are very interesting. As are your weaknesses."_

She felt someone grab her shoulder and give it a shake. "Stab it, Mione! Don't listen to it, kill it!" Ron shouted.

But she could not.

 _"You are never enough. Always seeking to prove your worth through classes, grades, accomplishments. Even in muggle school as a tiny girl. But it will never be enough, will it, mudblood, even if people say you are the brightest witch of your age? You can never truly be accepted in this world. You are filth."_

"Hermoine!" Harry yelled. "Kill it! It's vibrating in my hand now, who knows what it will do next! Stab it!"

But he was too late, as two bubbles grew out of the two sides of the locket. The voice got louder and as the bubbles grew and formed into people, a rumbling sound began.

"No!" she wailed, staring as one of the bubbles became a distorted version of Viktor, and the other became a beautiful blonde woman she did not recognize. The figures were nude from the waist up. Hermione could not fail to notice the woman had much larger breasts and a far better figure than she did.

 _"Did you really think that Viktor Krum, the worlds' youngest and most talented seeker, would really want a relationship with you?_ " the blonde laughed, reaching forward to trace hand down Riddle-Viktor's naked chest. Hermione gasped out loud at the action.

 _"I grew tired of your constant need for grades and accomplishments,"_ Riddle-Victor sneered, reaching out his hands to grasp the blonde's breasts. _"And your prudishness. I have needs, which someone like you could never fulfill."_

 _"What does a cold, childish, bookworm mudblood know about-"_ Riddle-Victor was cut off as the blonde's hand dropped to fondle his crotch. He threw his head back and groaned in pleasure. _"That is so much better than anything you ever tried. Fumbling worthless mudblood."_

No! No!" she cried in despair. The sword of Gryfindor slipped from her fingers as she covered her face in her hands and sobbed.

"Hermoine, you're stronger than this!" Harry screamed, as the rumbling grew louder. "Destroy it! Now!"

She pulled her hands from her face and turned to see Ron holding the sword in his hands. "Take it! You can do this!"

Wiping the tears from her face, Hermione grabbed the hilt of the sword with both hands. Ignoring the antics of Riddle-Viktor and the blonde woman, she stared down at the panes of the locket. With all the strength she had, she stabbed one of the panes, breaking the glass.

The noises the dying horcrux made were horrifying. Riddle-Viktor and the woman shrieked in terror as they were sucked back into the locket. There was a sound that reminded her of car crashes she'd seen in muggle movies - the screeching of metal on metal.

She jumped, hearing an explosion, and fell backwards as smoke began to rise from the locket.

"That smell is terrible," Harry coughed. He'd thrown himself out of the way once she had stabbed the locket, and was crawling toward her and Ron.

"Reminds me of some of Seamus's attempts in Potions," Ron gasped. "Worse than rotten eggs."

Hermione had dropped the sword when she fell, and now was examining her hands, which she was embarrassed to see were shaking. All of a sudden, she felt so tired she could sleep for days. But she had to know, and she could not bear to look at the locket. "Are they gone?" she whispered. "Is it over?"

"It's done. You did it, Mione. You killed it," Ron said, touching her arm. "I had complete faith in you."

"I'm so sorry," she whimpered, finally looking up to face her friends. "It was so powerful, so awful-"

"It's all right," Harry stated. He was standing now and held a hand out to her. She grasped it and allowed him to help her stand. "You were so brave. I don't know how you stood up to that horrible taunting, but you did."

She was cold and tired and emotionally numb, but she nodded her thanks. "I couldn't have done it without you two being here. All of my fears being thrown back in my face - I couldn't have faced that alone."

"Come on, let's get you two back to the tent and dry." Ron gestured with his hand, allowing her to go in front of him. "And as for what the locket said, I think it's bollocks. The way Krum was looking at you at Dumbledore's funeral, I thought he might grab you and take you away to hide you from all this. He certainly didn't look like someone who was tired of you. Desperate and afraid for you, that's what he looked like."

"And what if it's not bollocks," Hermione whispered as she trudged alongside her friends through the dead leaves to the tent.

"Then Krum's a git," Harry declared. "And he never deserved you."

"Agreed. Here we are," Ron said, opening the tent flap and ushering them inside.

Hermione entered her room, and dried herself and changed into thick flannel pajamas as fast as she could. Exhausted and emotionally drained, she crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Her mind was a jumble as she started to fall asleep, but she allowed herself a small smile, thinking of the support and loyalty of her friends. Despite the sadness she felt, she knew that if Viktor had abandoned her, Ron and Harry never would.


End file.
